


Like A Drug

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Series: Verses [15]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Xander is addicted to Devon's voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like A Drug

_Boy, yeah, you got it (got it)._  
 _Got me feeling crazy about my body._  
 _I, I cannot – cannot – stop it (stop it)._  
 _You got me moving, got me rocking (rocking)._  
  
 _Make me feel like I can make it real._  
 _You've got me hooked, get me on the floor._  
 _If I’m a tease and you’re the one to please,_  
 _I want more._  
  
 _I've never had a ride as delicate and fine,_  
 _you really blow my mind when we rock (when we rock)._  
 _I really wanna do everything with you, the things you make me do._  
 _Like a drug (like a drug)._  
  
~ Kylie Minogue  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
  
  
Xander was of the opinion that Devon MacLeish had a better-than-average voice.

It wasn’t remarkable, but it was pleasant and emotive and a lot of other applicable words that only Willow would know.

Not that he would ask.

Willow didn’t like Devon – for no good reason, as far as Xander could tell.

Well, maybe it had something to do with the fact that Devon always smelled like pot and sex.

It wasn’t a bad smell, though.

And, wow, that was some dangerous thinking.

So Xander decided the reason he went to the Bronze every night was because he liked Devon’s voice and definitely not because of the way Devon smelled, or looked in leather pants.

After all, Angel wore leather pants a lot and looked pretty stupid doing it.  
  
Xander had always enjoyed music. Often it was his only solace.

His preferred genres weren’t really Devon’s fare, but that was part of the allure – he managed to make profound music which Xander would have otherwise ignored. Devon’s voice moved him – his turn of a phrase, the little growl during the bridge, the pivot of his hips – these for some reason compelled Xander to rise to his feet and move with the music, the notes flowing over him and propelling him forward, often without his knowledge.

Devon’s voice did things to him that most people’s hands could never accomplish.  
  
He wasn’t sure when everything changed, when Devon suddenly started singing _to_ him rather than _at_ him.

It touched something deep within him, opening his mind to a world of possibilities he had never previously considered. Other people melted away and there was just his body moving to Devon’s music.

And Xander was struck by how many things no longer mattered, that he wasn’t worried what people were saying or what they thought, as the feelings for which he had no words poured forth from Devon’s mouth.


End file.
